


Boots & Lace

by Happy_Fluffy_Rainbow_Bunnies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mojo, Begging, Boots - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Dom!Castiel, Lace Panties, M/M, Panty Kink, Rough Sex, Sub!Dean, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Fluffy_Rainbow_Bunnies/pseuds/Happy_Fluffy_Rainbow_Bunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was the start of my panty kink, an RP with a stranger on Omege gone terribly right. They are my co-author and if they read this and remember me I'll be happy to give them credit where credit is due.</p><p>Dedicated to UnicornBl000d</p>
    </blockquote>





	Boots & Lace

**Author's Note:**

> This was the start of my panty kink, an RP with a stranger on Omege gone terribly right. They are my co-author and if they read this and remember me I'll be happy to give them credit where credit is due.
> 
> Dedicated to UnicornBl000d

I'm going to ask you a question. - DW

Okay. -C

And I won't be mad, alright? - DW

Just tell me the truth. - DW

Of course, Dean. -C

Sam said something earlier, and I just... - DW

You seem to know an awful lot about me. - DW

I know everything about you. -C

Everything? - DW

As in /everything/? - DW

Everything means -everything-, doesn't it? -C

What is the question you wish to ask, Dean? -C

How do you know everything? - DW

Did someone tell you, or did you see it, or what? - DW

I am an Angel of the Lord. -C

Even when I do not want to know everything, I still do. -C

Yeah, but how? - DW

Do ever ask yourself 'how' you breathe? It is the same for me. To know everything is as natural to me as breathing. I do not know or question the how, I just accept it as a part of me. -C

May I ask you a question? -C

Yeah, sure. - DW

What did Sam say? -C

He said I was a bad influence on you before I even started taking you to strip clubs and shit. - DW

Just by knowing what I did, I guess. - DW

If I did not want to go with you, I would not have gone. Surely your brother doesn't think you keep me on a leash and drag me around on your whim. -C

I don't know what he thinks. - DW

The point is, I've done some awful things. - DW

And, I mean, you've started doing some things... - DW

Anything I do is to complete a higher purpose. My intentions are pure. As are yours. -C

Alright, "assbutt." - DW

Is this when I call you a jerk? Or does only Sam get to call you that. -C

I'm not--. - DW

Cas, I'm just saying, the swearing and the drinking? - DW

Not real angelic. - DW

And don't tell me my intentions are pure. - DW

But they are. -C

Uh-huh. - DW

You do not take action lightly, Dean, unless there is a cause behind it. And if my language and my drink intake upset you, I will refrain. I was merely emulating you. -C

Exactly! - DW

Emulating me. - DW

You don't want to do that. - DW

It's bad. - DW

But you are good. -C

Sometimes the good do bad things but they still remain good. -C

Do you know all the sex I've had? - DW

All that angelic, innate ability to know everything I've done, do you /know/ some of the kinky shit I've gotten into? - DW

You swear and drink now, but next thing you know, you're doing meth and heroin and Christ knows what else while a bunch of hot chicks get ready for your orgy! - DW

That's not happening, Cas! - DW

I am aware of your--physical transgressions. But do you do all those things, Dean? Meth? Heroin? Orgies? Because I have never seen you do any of those. Therefore I would never seek to emulate it. -C

I trust you to guide me on the path of humanity. -C

Don't. - DW

Just follow God. - DW

My Father...could never have prepared me for Earth the way you have. -C

Earth sucks, but I suck the most. - DW

I'm not breaking you. - DW

Dean you could try for a thousand years and never break me. I am resilient. ~C

Do you doubt my ability to cope? -C

I doubt your ability to not pick up some pot and a hoard of bisexual hippies. - DW

You should have more faith in me, Dean. -C

You know who's cooler than me? Jesus. - DW

Bet he didn't get off in a pair of pink panties. - DW

I like the panties though. The white ones are flattering on you. -C

Oh my God. - DW

I told you I know everything. -C

Don't tell Sam. - DW

Never planned to. -C

But I must ask...-C

How do you intend on stopping me from telling him? -C

Seriously? - DW

You're a dick. - DW

I was trying to be flirtatious...-C

... Oh. - DW

I failed it seems. My apologies. -C

I will not tell your brother I prefer seeing you in white panties. -C

I like the lace. - DW

I know you do. I know everything. -c

You know which ones I'm wearing now? - DW

I will guess the lace ones. Since they are your favorite. -C

Ha! You don't know everything. - DW

Just because I do know everything does not mean I have to reveal the information I now. It is fun to pretend not to know. -C

Then you know I have two pairs of lace. - DW

Tell me more. -C

I'm wearing the black. - DW

Low-riding. - DW

We were digging earlier today, and I didn't want Sammy to see them. - DW

So why did you wear them? Surely it would have been easier to go "commando" -C

You know why. - DW

I want to hear you say it. -C

I like the way they feel against me. - DW

They're not smooth like the satin ones, kind'a see through, and it's... - DW

I like knowing they're there. - DW

There are times the lace is visually appreciated but there are times I prefer your satin. It's smooth and soft. -C

The satin's pretty, but the lace is sexy. - DW

Only on you Dean. -C

I fear lace does not do for my vessel. -C

What it does for you. -C

You try it on? - DW

...perhaps. -C

There are a lot of hours I spend alone while you sleep. -C

You try on the satin? - DW

Yes. -C

Bet you like those. - DW

Feels smooth up against your dick, doesn't it? - DW

Sliding against the head. - DW

Yes. Sometimes I hold them tight over myself and I like to thrust into them. It is cool and smooth and very satisfying. -C

Fuck. - DW

Have you never tried that? -C

Yeah. God, I have. - DW

What do you think about when you do it? -C

You're a kinky bastard. You know what I think about. - DW

Of course I do. I know everything. But I still want to hear you say it. -C

Think of someone walking in on me. - DW

I was a pretty kid, Cas, and I fucking hated it. - DW

The way skeezy truckers stared at me. - DW

I hated when they'd call me pretty or sweetheart-- girly shit. You know. - DW

But, fuck, I'd come so hard thinking about it. - DW

I think about some guy walking in on me, all pretty and hard with my panties. - DW

God. - DW

You're hard now. -C

Yeah. - DW

... Are you? - DW

Imagine if I were there right now. I could be watching you right now. Beautiful and hard in your black lace panties. -C

The lace is so rough, scraping against my cock. - DW

You like the feeling though. Otherwise you would take them off or change. You like the way it snags on your skin when it stretches out over your hard cock. -C

I love it. - DW

Tell me what else you love, Dean. What do you want done? What do you want to do? -C

Want to touch my balls. They're so big compared to the fucking panties, and it feels so good when I rub at them through the lace. - DW

Fuck, I want fingers in me. Never had... No one's ever done it, just me, but it's like I'm so full. - DW

Just fingers? -C

No. - DW

I would like to find you one day in your lace panties, lying face down in the bed. I've watched you sleep like that so many times now. I would peel the panties down till I could reach your opening. I'd use my tongue. Make you wet before I put just one finger inside you. -C

I would wait until you were squirming before I tasted more and added more until you told me you felt full, until you felt like you couldn't possibly take anymore. -C

Then I would give you more. -C

Fuck, Cas. - DW

Please. - DW

Tell me what you want, Dean. Tell me what you need. -C

I need you. - DW

God, I've never--. - DW

I can't. - DW

Can't what, Dean? -C

Your cock. I need your cock. - DW

I want to fill you, Dean. Every inch stuffed full with my cock. I want to be pressed fully inside you, reach around and stroke you.

Make the lace snag on your own hardness. I need to feel you clenching around me. -C

You actually gonna come take care of me, or do I have to fuck myself? - DW

You know where to find me. -C

Don't play that shit with me. - DW

I can always manipulate the energies around you. Do you feel my hands on your back? -C

What the hell? - DW

Yeah. - DW

Sliding down your spine, wrapping around your hips and sliding down along your hips. -C

Where are you? -C

On the edge of my bed. - DW

Can you see anything? - DW

If I choose to. -C

Got my pants shoved down around my thighs. - DW

I couldn't help it. Almost came right there, without you touching me. - DW

Running my fingers over the lace on my dick. - DW

Can I call you instead? - DW

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before another moment passes the phone rings.

"Hello, Dean."

"What did I tell you about me being a bad influence? Where the hell did you learn those words?" Dean set the phone on speaker, dropping it onto the mattress beside him.

"I have uttered those words before your existence, but never with desire. You may blame yourself for the desire but not the words."

"Forget it. I'm not arguing with you when I have my dick in my hand."

"No. It's in my hand.”

Dean would feel the strangest tingling presence close gently around his wrist, guiding his hand away though the feeling of fingers stroking over the lace did not disappear.  
He tensed briefly, shuddering when the invisible force continued his previous fondling. "Cas, how the hell--?"

"Relax Dean. I have you."

The hands would spread wide over the front of Dean's lace, slipping down to pass over his balls, even offering a small squeeze. "I could be invisible, in front of you. Right now."  
Grunting, Dean rocked his hips forward into the invisible force, chest rising and falling rapidly with his quickening respiration.

"Are you gonna," he wet his lips, ass clenching briefly in heightened anticipation. "What are you gonna do?" The hands left him quite suddenly like a breeze disappearing on a hot summer day. "Turn onto your stomach."

" _Please_ ," Dean murmured. If he was going to influence Castiel, he might as well teach him the necessity of manners. Nonetheless, he shifted into the center of the bed and lowered himself onto his stomach. He was still fully dressed save for where his jeans were pushed down to mid-thigh, boots digging into the mattress. Somehow, it made the situation all the more hot, hips grinding briefly into the comforter. "Alright. Done."

"Turn onto your stomach _please_ ," Cas stressed, his voice dropping to a low rumble at the 'please'. "And _please_ close your eyes." Huffing out an amused breath at Castiel's tone of voice, Dean pillowed his head in his folded arms and closed his eyes. "Done."

"Do not peek."

With just his ears to guide him Dean would hear the bedroom door open, shutting with a soft click behind him. Dean exhaled slowly, fingers curling in anticipation. Not peeking, not moving. He could do that. When the door clicked shut, his breath hitched in his chest, legs trying and failing to spread further apart, jeans preventing them from moving. Was the sound of breathing coming from the phone on the bed or from just behind him? There was no way to tell. What Dean would be able to feel however would be the hands returning to touch the smooth back of his thighs. They'd hook into the loops of his jeans and very--very slowly began inching them down with gentle tugs to first the right side and then the left until they were loose enough to slide down and fall to the floor leaving Dean in his boots and lace. "Talk to me, Dean," Cas' voice murmured softly over the phone.

Frowning, Dean fought the impulse to turn and see who the hell had walked in the door if Castiel was on the phone with him. Then again, angel mojo was probably a heck of a lot more capable than he was giving it credit for. This was okay. God, this was better than okay. "I'm so hard," he murmured, hesitant at first and then growing stronger. "My panties are so wet from earlier; had me leakin' all over them." He lifted his hips and moved accordingly to help with the removal of his pants.

There would be a pleased hum echo over the phone. Fingertips skirted Dean's ankles and calves, slipping further up till they flexed gently against the back of his thighs, sliding up till he could cup Dean's ass, both hands spreading wide over the firm, tight cheeks. "All that talk about you licking me open-- God, it's dirty, but I want it. I wanna feel your tongue in me, your fingers." Dean flexed his ass beneath the spread of hands, pushing back into their grasp.

"It's not dirty," Cas insisted but he didn't go on. The lace covering Dean's ass was tenderly being rolled down and Dean would be able to feel a pair of lips press against the small of his back, following the trail of freed skin until he was bared and the lace was folded into the crease where his ass met his thighs. Now able to do it, Dean spread his legs wider, baring himself if Castiel chose to look at him rather than just touch and listen. "I finger myself in the shower, sometimes, or when Sam's asleep in the other bed. Only one or two at a time, but it's so big," he rumbled just loud enough for his words to reach the phone. Anything to fill the silence as the hands moved over him. Firm hands grasped Dean's ass, gently kneading the smooth flesh till they were pulled apart and lips were replaced with tongue, tasting and sweeping wide wet trails down till it found the opening to Dean's body. "You have never asked someone to do this for you before?" The conversational tone did not seem to match the heated breaths that washed over the wet hole tasting and testing the flesh there with long wet licks and switching to gentle prodding with the tip of the tongue.

It felt odd at first, the wet swipes of tongue over Dean's virgin hole, body flinching at the first touch of a mouth to his ass. Hands were one thing, but this was an entirely different feeling, intimate and hot, pressing tentatively as if it were trying to breach him. In a matter of moments, he was squirming, his arms moving out from beneath his head to curl fingers into the comforter. "Ugh," he managed a pitches higher than usual, trying to gather the mental capacity for a response. "No. I... Huh," he breathed haltingly. "Never had a guy-- never let a guy touch, and girls would judge."

"But you would let me?"

The tongue worked him open making him warm and alarmingly wet before it breached the tight ring, slipping inside hardly an inch before it began to work slowly forward. The hands moved down to Dean's hips, gripping them firmly to keep him from squirming away as the tongue pressed fully inside Dean in one quick thrust. Dean moaned helplessly, held immovably in place by a strong set of hands, body trying to jerk closer and away all at once. Blindly, he reached back behind him, scrabbling for something to grip and ground himself on. "Cas." His hole felt wet and open, entirely too blissed to clench down fully. Rather, it fluttered desperately around the tongue, heart hammering in his chest.

"Cas, c'mon. C'mon."

"Relax Dean." The tongue remained but one hand was slipping back along Dean's ass, spreading him open just a hint wider till he could feel a thick, finger slip inside clean to the second knuckle aided by Dean's wetness and the tongue that lapped inside Dean's ass. "How many?"

Thoughts cloudy, Dean merely breathed and remained silent for several seconds before asking, "How many what?" How many fingers splitting him open, huge and rough compared to his sensitive inner walls. This wasn't the time for goddamn conversation, not after the texts, and now the hands and tongue and--. He clamped experimentally down on the finger, giving up on reaching back. "There's, uh, one," he murmured, distracted. "So big."

"How many do you want?" the voice clarified this time sounding close, like a voice in his ear. Yet the tongue supposedly attached to that voice was still tasting and swirling inside him moving a little faster, probed a little deeper, the one finger inside him stroking the smooth inner walls, feeling him out.

Dean shivered, clenching his eyes shut to avoid temptation. "F-four." He could do four. Besides, what were a few fingers compared to some guy's dick? A pause, and he asked, "Are you here?" There was still a voice on the phone, the mouth tonguing his spit-sloppy hole, and then another at his ear. That wasn't possible, was it?

"I'm always here," the voice spoke from the phone, from his ear, from all around him. A hot sigh passed over Dean's hole as the tongue withdrew, replaced with a second finger beginning to thrust them inside slow and steady, prying open the tender hole. Only when the fingers moved with little to no resistance was a third added, filling and stretching Dean open. The tongue returned, not to enter, but to aid, keeping Dean wet and sticky as the fingers inside him would begin to thrust deeper, reaching and touching looking for--something.

Out of all the kinky shit Dean had done in his life for sex, he was fairly certain getting gang-banged by an angel who wasn't even present in the room was probably at the top of the 'fucking insane' list. Each new finger was a stretch, more of an effort to relax himself around. With his own hand, it was so much easier to explore and feel. Now, though, this was an entirely other level of trust. What he had to do here was let himself go, enjoy the pleasure washing over him in waves; but, God, if it wasn't difficult. The fingers were rough inside of him, not slicked and wet like his hole was, and he supposed that was what the tongue had returned for, his stretched rim trembling beneath the attention. Dean's breathing was loud in the silent room, interspersed with moans and grunts as Castiel worked. Oh, it felt good. Each individual thrust, deeper than the last, poking and prodding and-- Dean jerked and clenched hard when the fingers struck something (his prostate, he thought foggily, that was his prostate) that made him keen aloud. Later, of course, he'd deny making any such noise, but for now... "Cas, fuck, there. Again."

The fingers inside of Dean stilled at that clench, the hand on his hip was still solid but the fingers there gripped gently to keep him still. Where someone else might've had to search again when the fingers curled again inside Dean they passed directly of his prostate again to inspire that clench to occur again. It was Cas' voice that let out another pleased hum from the phone, opening to a sigh as the fingers pressed again, harder this time. "Dean..." Dean cried out, a thick dribble of precome trickling onto the comforter beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, body hyper-sensitive and cock throbbing desperately between his thighs. Every jab at his prostate drew a less self-conscious sound, louder and rougher as he attempted to rock and grind back despite the hand keeping him in place. "I'm," he exhaled shakily, face smashed against the mattress. "I'm gonna come if you keep, hha, doin' that."

The hand within him stilled at the words, slipping away from Dean's prostate to return to the slow smooth work of opening him up until a fourth finger could at last be added. "Four," the voice said over the phone, low and husky before starting to thrust into Dean in a slow easy rhythm guiding the clenching of his ass to match it. The hand on Dean's hips began to guide him up to his knees, spreading them on the comforter to support Dean's weight and denying him the relief of grinding himself into the mattress. Weight shifted the mattress behind Dean and the fingers inside of him would press in as deeply as they could, curling and scissoring gently inside him.

"Tell me what you want Dean."

A sticky strand of precome connected Dean's bobbing cock to the bed as he rose, only breaking once he finally made it fully onto his knees. Doing anything more than shivering and lying there felt impossible, never mind talking, holding the conversation Castiel so obviously wanted. Grunting and panting breathily with each stretch and thrust (deeper than Dean had ever dared), he tried to rock back when the fingers remained embedded within him rather than pulling back out. "Fuck you. You know, ah, you know what I want, you bastard."

"I want to hear you say it."

It was like a mantra the demand to hear Dean speak the words as if Dean would not be able to accept the desires he sought without saying it. Thinking it, acting on it was one thing but could be easily suppressed. Saying it aloud made it real. As real as the feel of a thick, swollen cock pressed between his legs, slipping in alongside Dean's cock still encased in lace. The fingers shift, stretching open even more. "Say it."

A soft, trembling moan rolled past Dean's lips, chest suddenly seizing with the realization that there was a dick touching him, another guy's junk, and it only served to make the whole thing hotter. He was going to get fucked stretch open wide in his pretty, black panties; but only if he said it, apparently. "I," he started uncertainly, more concerned with trying to rub down against the erection brushing the underside of his own, "I want you in me. God, Cas, I need your cock in me. I'm burning and... and just fuck me, alright? Fuck me!"

The room was silent save for the sound of Dean's heavy breathing. The dick rubbed  
against Dean's cock, rocking slowly with measured patience to build his pleasure before the words stemmed forward, the rocking of that cock pressing back into Dean's advances, aligning the lengths till they rubbed each other raw between the lace. Only when Dean cried out did the movements stop, even the fingers inside him ceased motion before one by one they were withdrawn. The cock slipped back from between Dean's body, returning hot and heady to rub itself between Dean's ass, the swollen head rolling over his wide open entrance, teasing him relentlessly with the promise of getting what he wanted but denying him the final pleasure of it.

But Dean wasn’t having any of it. No. No, they weren't playing this game any longer. A minute more, and Dean was sure he'd come untouched, attempting to squirm in the sure grip at his hips, entrance clenching and fluttering ceaselessly with each pass of that plump head over sensitive flesh. He'd said it. There it was, out in the open, and yet apparently that wasn't enough for Castiel, the smug bastard. What, then? What the hell did he want? For lack of anything else to offer, Dean stuttered out what he could in words, a mess of stops and starts that primarily jumbled together to make, "You fucking bastard. I swear t'God-- fuck me, f-fuck me-- gonna kill you, please, Cas, put it in."

"You are so impatient."

The hands reached for his hips and after a few seconds of pause Dean would feel it. Stretched open so far and so well that in one smooth, firm thrust the cock was sheathed fully inside Dean, solid firm hips pressed forward to cradle his ass, both hands now gripping Dean's hips firmly, merely holding inside Dean's body before suddenly there was a moan over the phone, all around him, pressed right into his ear and the hips behind Dean began to shift, pulling almost all the way back before thrusting in hard and fast, starting up a quick and wild rhythm. "Oh...Dean..."

Castiel wasn't the one who'd been tongued and fingered and teased to the point of desperation; he didn't have any right to comment on how impatient Dean was being. He could feel the firm press of hips to his ass, the thick stretch of a cock splitting him wide, and distantly he wondered if that was really his angel back there or another illusion-- if it was someone else entirely. The thought of Castiel bringing in a complete stranger to fuck him open, Dean none the wiser with his obediently closed eyes, shot a spark of sharp lust through him only intensified by the fact the erection was retreating, pulling out, thrusting brutally back into the hilt. His commented simplified to a litany of "uh, uh, uh" as his body rocked with the force of the movement, longing to open his eyes and turn to see blue. God, he wanted, but what he needed, what he was about to start demanding in a matter of seconds if Castiel didn't get his shit together soon, was that sharp punch of ecstasy he received each time something knocked that fucking fantastic bundle of nerves nestled within him. "Harder," he breathed thinly, "Cas, please, harder."

The request was answered instantly, the thrusts lost their length but gained in intensity, pulling back only halfway before stuffing itself back into Dean's depths. It swelled inside Dean, filling him completely especially when that tender head jammed itself into his prostate once before slipping again for a thrust. Then it was assaulted again this time hit once-twice before it pulled away. The rhythm continued, three hits and then escape, four before the cock inside him stilled and the hand--the wet one that had so opened Dean--slipped around and under till strong, warm fingers pressed Dean's cock against his stomach, stroking him with the lace over Dean's cock.

Dean rocked with the thrusts to the best of his ability-- which, the assault on his prostate harsh and unrelenting, was steadily diminishing. Everything but pleasure fell to the wayside, arms stretched out with his palms flat against the headboard to prevent him from sliding up the bed with each jerk of Castiel's hips; but then the movements stilled, cock jumping when rough, precome-sticky lace dragged over the sensitive underside. He was going to come just from this, stuffed full of dick and touched through his panties like a perfect slut. Desperate, he clenched down on the the cock splitting him open, a constant reminder while he ground down and back and, oh, fuck, "Cas, Cas, I'm almost--."

"I know." The hands returned to Dean's hips and there was a loud wet noise as the cock slid back and out of Dean only long enough to turn the man onto his back, a pair of strong arms maintaining his weight so easily despite his dead weight to turn him over. Lips graced his face, his forehead and nose and cheeks before finally claiming his lips in a kiss as the cock pressed inside him again, filling him to the brim and rocking into his prostate. Bare chest met bare chest, stomach met stomach pinning Dean's lace-enclosed cock between them caressed and stroked by the motions of their joined hips. The kiss ended as a low, throaty groan broke from above Dean, the hands returning to his hips to grip him tight and thrust into him harder and faster. "Please,” Cas breathed against Dean’s bruised, kiss-bitten lips. “Open your eyes.”

If and when he obeyed he'd find Cas staring down at him with those intense blue eyes, their bodies rocking in unison as he carved his way into the hunter's ass. It took more effort than it should have to return the kiss, mouth moving thoughtlessly and hungrily while his hand raised to tangle in short dark curls, the other digging blunt fingernails into Castiel's back. No breasts pressed, soft, to Dean's chest, no easy curves; only hard lines and rough jerks and thrusts punching at his prostate. His back arched upwards, inadvertently smashing his cock between them, a move that only intensified the nearly too-intense scrape of lace. Already breathless before the kiss started, Dean was gasping now, bringing up his legs so the soles of his boots dug into the man above him. Even upon opening his eyes, there was only blue and a flush of pink, the sight of Castiel not even beginning to register in his lust-fogged mind.

So good. God, this was-- "Cas," he choked, stiffening. His fingers dug in hard, pleasure crashing into him with a cut off shout he couldn't even hear himself make. Semen flooded the panties, wetting their stomachs and cocks with five thick spurts, creamy white. His hole clamped down around Castiel, spasming sporadically.

The sharp spike of boots in his hips didn't concern him. For once pleasure as paramount, rising inside the angel as he drove the hunter into the bed feeling his body spasming wildly, building to its climax. Cas could feel his as well, the racing of his vessel's heart, the ache in his own cock. The ache paralyzed him when Dean's eyes opened to find him and Cas whispered something in Enochian as Dean's expression broke and he came so hard and violently. Need filled Castiel as Dean came undone beneath him, his ass rippling and flexing and spasming around him fighting and aiding Castiel's thrusts simultaneously until Cas' hips fell forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Dean as his own orgasm made him cry out, his hold on his power slipping as he came so suddenly and powerfully that the lights in the room burst in a shower of sparks. Castiel fell into the man beneath him, his forehead resting against Dean's shoulder as he struggled (and failed) to recover.

A series of pops and cracks, and suddenly the room plunged into darkness, curtains drawn over the window. It was difficult to register outside stimuli while still in the throws of his own orgasm, but the thought of raining glass and electric bits sobered Dean relatively quickly. He flinched and curled closer to Castiel, half attempting to shove them both onto the safety of the floor rather than directly next to the lamp and half hiding his face. His eyes slammed shut in panic even as come flooded his insides, hot and sticky, a number of thoughts stumbling through his addled mind before he realized it was the angel doing this. They were fine. This was fine. A few long moments, slipping into minutes, passed before Dean clumsily reached out for his phone, flipping it shut with the hand not slung around Castiel's neck. Silence fell.

With a flush of energy the lights were repaired, fresh bulbs turning the dark and silent room warm with light again. Castiel pressed his hands on either side of Dean's head, pushing up until he could look down and see the look on the hunters face still flushed pink from his orgasm. Castiel was fairly certain the look was mirrored on his own but he'd lean down and press another gentle kiss to Dean's mouth.

"How was that?"


End file.
